


Handy

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Luther does chores.
Relationships: Kara/Luther (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Handy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Luther pushes out from under the sink and wipes his hands off on his trousers before shutting the cupboard and rising to his feet. A simple twist of the handle, and the faucet pours out a steady stream of clear, cool water, just as it should. He doesn’t have to double check for leaks; he can hear that the problem’s solved. He turns it off with a small smile, pleased to be finished. Maybe he shouldn’t be. Domestic models aren’t programmed to feel any kind of _pleasure_ , but there’s a certain satisfaction in holding the house together: in doing everything Kara asks, swift and sure, before Alice can even notice that something’s wrong. Their house is an old one, but Luther keeps it running like a well-oiled machine. Like a fancy new android. He heads downstairs to spread the news and can already hear Alice’s cartoons drifting in from the living room. 

Kara’s in the kitchen, wrist-deep in soapy water. She turns to reach for a dirty plate, and Luther comes to her side, murmuring, “I can do that.”

“It’s alright,” she tells him, offering a soft smile. “You already do so much.”

“That’s my job.” It’s what he was _made for._ And doing the dishes is a particularly easy chore. Kara has better things to do, like raising her daughter: she’s a single mother that works much too hard. Luther’s supposed to do everything else. He reports, “The sink in the upstairs washroom is fixed.”

“Thank you, Luther.” She pulls one hand from the water to clasp his arm and give him a little squeeze—her skin warm and slick and the lingering touch worth more than she’ll ever know. She looks up at him like he’s taken a great weight off her shoulders, like she couldn’t do it all without him, even though he’s only an extra appliance and she could absolutely manage on her own. He misses her hand as soon as it’s fallen away.

He opens his mouth to offer to at least dry and put away the dishes. But Alice chooses that moment to come barreling into the kitchen, holding up one of her toys—a multi-coloured fox with mismatched eyes. She whines, “Norman’s ripped!” like it’s the end of the world. Norman’s arm is drooping, dislocated from his shoulder, bleeding stuffing out the side. Alice’s eyes are big and watery, fingers trembling around her wounded friend. 

“Oh, honey,” Kara instantly soothes. She turns to draw Alice into a comforting hug, though it gets suds on the back of Alice’s sweater. There’s a brief moment where Luther’s circuits are overrun with _other things_ instead of what they should be: he should announce his sewing skills and remedy the situation. But first he just soaks in the sight of Kara rubbing little circles around Alice’s back and clicking her tongue sympathetically. Kara’s _such a good mother_ , and something about that resonates with Luther more than his base protocols ever have. 

Then he’s finished processing his admiration and adoration, and he says, “I can fix it.”

Alice looks up over Kara’s shoulder and gasps, “Really?”

Luther nods. Not only that, but he thinks he can do a better sewing job than the original manufacturer of the toy. Norman’s stitching was never sufficiently tight. 

Disentangling from Kara, Alice darts to Luther instead, wrapping around his legs as though he’s already saved her life. He gives her shoulder a gentle pat. When she steps back, she holds up her toy to him, preemptively gushing, “Thanks, Luther!”

Luther collects the doll and pats Alice’s head. With a hopeful look, she darts back to the television. Luther turns to head back for the stairs—the sewing machine is packed up in the attic but should still be functional. “Luther.”

Luther pauses, glancing back at Kara. She comes over to smile and kiss his cheek. The synthetic skin there seems to glow, his program skipping a beat. The gratitude is all over her face, even though Luther’s the one that’s eternally grateful.

Really, he’s no better than Norman. He’s a toy in Kara’s household, just a more expensive one. But he feels like _family_ , and he pays Norman the same courtesy, sewing him up and bringing him back in exchange for another warm hug.


End file.
